


the bones beneath your skin

by crooked



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reality of life after Hogwarts takes its toll on Remus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bones beneath your skin

**Author's Note:**

> [original post](http://crooked.livejournal.com/240582.html) @ livejournal.

Sirius watches Remus as he dresses in the morning, scarred skin stretched tauter than ever over his bones. It worries him, the amount of weight Remus has dropped since they've left school, but he can't say anything about it. The few times he's tried they've had blowout fights, and Remus closes up on him.

He knows it's because Remus skips meals, can't afford to eat out much or keep the refrigerator overly stocked on his miserly pay. Not if he hopes to make rent anyway. Electricity and hot water are nice, too. So Remus makes sacrifices where he can. And Merlin forbid Sirius offer to pay for meals. Remus slips into a proper mood, surly and quiet the rest of the day.

It just kills him to grab onto Remus' hips, rocking into him, and feel the jut of his hipbone protruding just that little bit more. He hates to run his fingers down Remus' sides and feel each bone of his ribs more clearly than the week before.

So he watches Remus pull on his shirt, his shoulder blades more prominent, the notches of his spine too visible. He thinks about making Remus a sack lunch for his break at work, but he knows the boy will refuse, no matter how much Sirius' leftover roast chicken sandwiches make him salivate. Remus stoops to kiss him goodbye, and Sirius feels helpless as he walks out the door.

Later, when Sirius feels a pang of hunger rumble through his stomach, he heads to the icebox to grab a carton of takeaway. He pauses with his hand on the handle; he can't eat a bloody thing when he knows Remus' lunch consists of a cup of black coffee and a cigarette. He sighs and heads over to the window, grabbing his pack of fags off the worktop as he goes.

It's stupid and irrational, he knows, but skipping lunch will make him feel better for the time being. He lights up, pushing the window open and blowing curls of smoke out. If nothing else, he rationalises, at least they'll be malnourished together.


End file.
